


shattered reality

by shroom_system



Series: my oneshots [3]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: How Do I Tag, Random & Short, Shirogane Tsumugi-centric, Short One Shot, Spoilers, imposter syndrome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:46:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25877647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shroom_system/pseuds/shroom_system
Summary: her world was perfect.she surrounded it in mystery and sadness and symbolism and she made it perfect.her creation was perfect.but it was fragile.and around her, it fell.
Series: my oneshots [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1869358
Kudos: 7





	shattered reality

things started... falling apart. her killing game was an elaborate masterpiece, a complex piece that she’d so carefully stitched together, she’d created it to be perfect, everything was in place, everything had gone smoothly, everything should have been perfect. but the thread frayed.

she patched it up of course. in her haste, she did a sloppy job, the stitches were ever so slightly weak, just a tiny bit uneven, the colour just slightly off. 

she had thought it didn’t matter. but then more fraying happened. patching. fraying. she tried so desperately to fix her masterpiece that it all fell to bits. it all just... collapsed. and she found her masterpiece was glass. 

and how it shattered. 

glass rained down around her, turning to tiny daggers pointed directly towards her, falling, falling, hitting her and digging into her skin, each razor-sharp edge cutting into the mastermind. she felt all the pain of a thousand blows, agony overwhelming her. 

in some ways, she deserved this. 

in others, she didn’t. 

it hurt nonetheless.

and she let it fall. she watched as her greatest creation turned against her, slicing into her and cutting her open, exposing all the awful things she’d done, every single tiny flaw of hers, finally out for the world to see.

Tsumugi Shirogane was a fake and a fraud and an imposter. 

she did not deserve to call herself Junko. she did not deserve the title mastermind. she didn’t deserve anythiῆც. 

all she deserved was pain. pain upon pain upon pain. 

and she felt it.

part of her wanted to just let the pain take her and die. she’d suffered a lot pain. so, so much pain. she just wanted it to be over.

part of her wanted to fight. she wanted to scream and cry and drag herself out of this and treat her wounds and just live and let herself heal. she had been through pain, and she was prepared to end it.

the latter part of her brain appeared to be stronger. 

so she fought.

she screamed. 

she didn’t realise she had that scream inside her. she screamed and she felt all the pain inside her scream too, she felt every frayed stitch and every flaw scream along with her. 

she screamed until her breath gave out, and her lungs heaved to catch up. 

the glass dug into her arms but it couldn’t hurt her anymore. either she’d felt too much pain and she’d finally gone numb or it couldn’t affect her. she didn’t care to find out which. 

she smiled. 

her masterpiece had shattered, her perfect fiction reduced to remnants of its former glory. 

but she smiled.

maybe she was glad to be free of her despair. 

she’d let her role in the story weigh her down for too long.

so what if she wasn’t the main character? so what if she was merely a side character, at most a support? so what if she existed for a plot twist? 

she was still a part of this story. and that was better than never being written in at all.

she should’ve expected this failure though. 

should’ve expected her hasty patching to go wrong. should’ve expected her facade to end up glass. should’ve expected her fiction to be so fragile.

she should’ve expected everything that hit her. 

but she wasn’t a fortune teller.

she excelled in costumes and facades and cloaking yourself as someone else. 

her entire identity was based around tricking people. 

but at least she had an identity.

so maybe her arms were scarred with the shattered reality of her failure. 

it served as a reminder of her mistakes.

but it was also a reminder that it was her work that broke, not her.

**Author's Note:**

> yeah i wrote this to cope


End file.
